When we all fall asleep, where do we go?
by PG Tips and Ginger Nuts
Summary: Set three months after Carla and Peter's return from Carlisle. Carla struggles to resume a normal life following the severity of her psychotic episode. Peter remains steadfast at her side as she struggles with her recovery, especially now that there's a new challenge thrown into the mix.. [Lost all muse for this ff so indefinitely put on hold, apologies!]
1. Chapter 1

The cold of the hard porcelain tub was a stark contrast to the almost scalding water that enveloped Carla's naked frame. She was in a trance like state as she watched the misty steam rising from the water's surface, completely unaware that her body was lowering further into the tub. Her skin was already red from the heat of the water, beads of sweat prominently forming across her forehead as the humidity in the room increased. The cruel and vicious words of her family and neighbours were ringing loud in her head, shrouding any semblance of self awareness or control she had over her own mind.

"Murdering bitch!"

"Rana would still be alive right now if it weren't for you!"

The silence in the bathroom was almost deafening to her as the lack of an audible presence only allowed the voices to increase in volume. The harshness of their tones ripped through her head; her own inner speech already having passed the point of even attempting to fight back against them. She could do nothing else but accept what they were saying as the truth. Despite the familiarity of the voices, sounds that were once comforting to her, she felt totally disconnected from them; numb and emotionless as they continued to berate her. She had silently pleaded with them for forgiveness, to accept her for who she was and not judge her by what she had done, but no matter how much remorse she was able to muster up and offer the barrage of abuse just kept coming.

"Drop dead, Carla."

"Go to hell!"

She was no longer able to discern what voice belonged to who, when they had said it or in what context it had been received. The internal assaults continued, the vile words of hatred and loathing relentless; there was nothing she could do to stop them. As the steaming water tickled her chin she made no effort to stop herself from sliding further down the tub. Her arms remained stationary by her sides; any strength her legs may have once possessed now non existent. The recurrent abuse in her mind was physically crippling and she was done trying to fight it.

"You think of you always and anyone that gets close to you pays the price; Paul, Liam, now me. You've destroyed us all."

The more she tried to ignore the screaming the louder it got; more recognisable voices forcing their way into her subconscious and slowly taking control. A sudden surge of pain shot through her temples and she almost believed that the voices were desperately trying to rip their way out of her head and take on a physical form in front of her. They had already conquered her mind, there was no telling the pain they could inflict on her body. But she didn't care. She didn't care about any of it anymore because she deserved everything that was happening to her. There was no form of torture too inhuman for her because the pain and suffering she forced onto others was tenfold to any pain she had ever experienced herself.

"It's your fault…you made me do it. Carla…"

The sound of his voice polluting her mind was enough to make her blood run cold. She gulped as tears escaped her eyes, their journey shortened by the water level that had risen to her cheekbones. He was always in her head and despite all of her best efforts she could never get him to leave. There was no way out. She was surrounded, ambushed by every harrowing memory she bore and things would never change. She squeezed her eyes shut as her fragile body travelled further into what would soon become her liquid filled coffin. Her long raven locks that had clung to her skin was now flowing effortlessly around her head, dancing in sync with the gentle rocking of the fluid that surrounded her. Her skin glided along the tub; further, further, until she was fully submerged.

Suddenly everything was still; silent.

The voices stopped, the mocking had ceased and she felt calm for the first time in weeks. The water no longer burned her skin but became somewhat welcoming as it swallowed her up. She kept her eyes shut tight, her tears no longer distinguishable from the liquid that surrounded her. Her body felt weightless; the burden of every mistake and selfish act she had ever made now gone, just like that. Somewhere, deep down, she knew she should be fighting, shaking, clawing at the rim of the tub to break free from the water that had completely engulfed every inch of her, but she was too tired to fight. It was time to accept defeat. She parted her lips and allowed the water to slowly enter and fill her mouth before inhaling with one quick gasp.

Her airways were consumed by the water as it travelled to her lungs within seconds. The stinging sensation in her chest overwhelming as her body instinctively tried to fight against it and she couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal that it could do such a thing as going against what her mind had already decided. But she remained still, motionless, for at last she was able to feel herself slipping away from the heinous reality of life. The pain soon subsided, a moment of relief washed over her almost as rapidly as the water had as her constricted lungs became more relaxed and the heaviness of her head disappeared. She didn't need to keep fighting anymore. At last it was over. At last she was free.


	2. Chapter 2

"Carla? Carla?"

He called for her repeatedly, his voice hoarse but somewhat welcoming compared to the shrill, mocking tones that she had unwillingly grown accustomed to. It took her a few moments to summon the power to distinguish whether or not it was another part of her mind slowly unhinging, pushing more familiar sounds to the forefront of her sub conscience in order to trick her, make her believe she was safe only to rip it from her the second she dropped her defensive barriers. Was he even there at all, talking to her? Or was it all a dream?

Two strong arms gripped onto her skin and jerked her from beneath the surface. Cold air hit with the force of a bullet and caused her to cough violently in attempt to clear the water that had pooled into her lungs. She spluttered and choked, her throat stinging as the blood vessels at the back of her throat threatened to burst at any given moment as the water evacuated her airways and joined the larger body of water contained within the tub. She gasped hard, taking hold of the sides of the bath to try and ground herself as reality slowly washed over her.

His hand gently rested on her back, grazing over the now prominent curves of her shoulder blades as she hunched herself over, alternating between rubs and forceful blows to aid with the functions of her body as it worked to take back control of her breathing.

The reality of what was really happening soon dawned on her, as did the pain. Her skin stung, crimson red from the searing temperature of the water. Her lungs burned almost as if they were on fire, ironic as only moments ago they had been filled with water. Her head throbbed, but she wasn't quite sure whether it was due to the brief deprivation of oxygen or the contents within her mind. The voices, the ringing, the blaring of sirens in the distance; it all began to creep it's way back in. Everything was closing in on her and despite Peter's best efforts to pull her from the water she still felt as though she was drowning.

"What the 'ell do you think you're playing at?"

His voice was sharp but filled with concern and panic. She had never meant to worry him or cause him any more grief than she already had. she couldn't be responsible for inflicting more damage on people's lives, not when she had caused everyone more than enough pain. Kate was right; nobody wanted her here. What exactly would she be achieving by hanging around where she wasn't wanted? They all wanted her gone; her family, neighbours, people that she had always considered to be friends, the voices… especially the voices. Why prolong the inevitable?

"I… I was having a bath."

She spoke monotonously with no sign of emotion present, no regret or sudden realisation of what had happened, what could have happened. Her eyes rocked back and forth, desperately searching for something to fixate on, something she knew to be real. She tried to focused on the sound of his voice, his kind and soothing tones, but the others were so strong as they battled for dominance within the psychological prison of her mind. She couldn't get out.

"It didn't look that way to me. Come on, love, let's get you out of there."

She looked up at him, her expression blank and pitiful. She was merely an empty shell of the woman he once knew. The light in her eyes has faded. Physically she was sat before him but she hadn't been herself for longer than he cared to admit and he feared that she would never return again. Peter dragged her from the tub and sat on the floor, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping the towel that was on the floor around her quivering body. He couldn't tell whether she was shaking from the sudden exposure to the cold air or because her body had become so weak, so fragile, that the only thing it could do was tremble.

Her eyes searched the room, trying to locate the origin of the whispering. The deafening sounds of people talking about her, plotting what they were going to to do her. She couldn't let them get her, she just couldn't. She was too weak to fight but she couldn't sit back and allow them to take her. She clasped either side of her head and covered her ears, hoping that everything would stop. Her body rocked involuntarily, uncertain of whether her movements of her own accord or Peter's attempt to soothe her, imploring them to leave her alone.

"No, no, no… stop it… I know what you're trying to do, I know…"

She pleaded with them, begged them to stop. The louder they grew the more her body shook and her breathing became more erratic until suddenly there was nothing. The ringing had stopped again, the voices were gone. It was quiet once again. She let out a sigh of relief until she heard a noise so haunting that her blood ran cold. Her head snapped up to look at Peter and the confusion in his expression almost matched hers.

"Do you hear that? Where… where's that coming from? What have you done?"

The grip of her hands around her head loosened as she focused on the sound as it grew louder, more recognisable. She stared at the man in front of her. He looked familiar but she couldn't be sure whether she really knew him to be real. Maybe they had sent him? Had they sent him to trick her? She couldn't be sure of anything except for the soft but needy cries coming from the next room. It was her, she just knew. An instinct awakened inside of her as she tried to shuffle her body away from Peter's.

"What have you done to her? Why is she crying? Where is my baby?"


	3. Chapter 3

The volume of the infant's cry only grew louder the more Carla focused on it's origin. She shuffled further away from Peter, her hand gripping tightly to the towel that she had pulled around her body, her delicate skin still throbbing from the temperature of the water she had only moments ago been submerged in. Although she had never heard these cries before she instantly recognised them; it was as if she had heard them countless times before. Somehow she was able to understand what they meant, the desperate need for care and attention that could only be given by her. Placing her hand on the cold tile flooring and using as much strength as she could muster she slowly rose to her feet.

"What have you done, Peter? What have you..."

Peter's confusion became more evident in his expression and although he remained understanding of Carla's plight he couldn't help but wonder what she was talking about and what exactly she believed she was able to hear. He reached out to her, wanting to wrap her in his arms and reassure her that she was safe with him; regardless of her mental state and what she believed to be real in that moment she would always be safe with him, but the small movement of his arms outstretching towards her proved to be too much and she absentmindedly pushed past him and out of the bathroom.

"Carla, please, just listen to me. Whatever it is you think you can hear or see... it's not there, love. It's just your mind."

Peter tried his best to ground her by repeating what Scott had said earlier that day. He knew the state of her reality had shifted considerably during recent months but he had hoped that after spending time and receiving help in the specialist unit in Carlisle that he would see more of the old Carla returning to him. There had been good days and bad days, more so the latter, but tonight had been their biggest set back yet. It was as if she was completely disconnected from him and herself and as much as she pushed him away he knew he couldn't leave her alone; he had to persevere.

"You're lying to me. You're always lying. I know she's here, Peter, so you may as well just tell me."

Carla continued to mumble incoherently to herself as she exited the bathroom and frantically searched the landing, trying to locate the sound. She couldn't bear to look at Peter o even speak to him directly as her mind was plagued with doubt. The ringing in her head had resumed it's torturous tones and she could feel her heart pounding against her chest. Her breaths quickened, becoming more shallow as the seconds passed and the overwhelming sense of panic began to take hold of her once more. Raising her free hand she rubbed her fingers furiously over her temple on the left side of her head, trying to make sense of what was happening. There were too many sounds to be able to decipher where each one was coming from but she was focused on one in particular and despite the deafening racket that consumed her she knew she had to find it.

"Where is she, Peter? Just tell me, please, she needs me."

Carla turned to face Peter, a look of desperation in her eyes as she spoke in a less accusatory manner, hoping to level with him and get the answers that she needed.

"Who? Who are you talking about? You're not making any sense, my love."

Peter sighed and maintained the safe distance from his partner so as not to frighten her. He wanted nothing more than to close the gap and hold her but he knew that giving her time and space and remaining as patient as he could was the only way to get through this. This proved to be more difficult than he could have ever imagined as he watched the tears slowly begin to stream down Carla's cheeks as she finally gave in to her emotions.

"I can hear her crying, I can hear.. What if she's hurt? What if she needs something? Peter, I can't find her, please, just help me find her."

As Carla's pleas progressed into sobs Peter's heart began to break. He soon realised what she was talking about, who she was referring to, and the thought of having to explain to her that their little girl wasn't there was enough to reduce him to tears. He watched as she spun on her heel, making her way through to his bedroom as if she had located the origin of the sounds and he quickly followed, aware that once the realisation of the situation had sunk in that she would be inconsolable.

"She's in here. I know she's in here, I can still hear-"

Carla stopped mid sentence, holding her breath as she listened intently to her surroundings before discovering that the room was silent. She could no longer hear the cries of her infant daughter; the baby she had longed for and loved but had never been given the chance to meet. A few moments passed before she allowed herself the opportunity to breath again, walking towards the bed and sitting down on it's edge.

"Sweetheart.."

Peter spoke to her in hushed tones as he watched the understanding sweep across her face; her tears falling a little faster as a sense of realisation washed over her. She shook her head slowly, still clinging to the towel that was wrapped around her frame before looking up at Peter.

"She's gone, isn't she? She was never here at all, she was never here..."

"Oh, love."

Peter wasted no time in following her path to the bed, taking his place at her side and slowly extending his arm around her shoulders to draw her close to him. The pain and grief they both felt for their daughter had never been addressed before as neither of them wanted to upset the other but in that moment no words were needed. The heart wrenching sobs emitting from Carla's mouth accompanied by Peter's occasional cries were enough to convey exactly how they both felt.

She was gone. Everything they had ever hoped for was gone. But at least they had each other.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter was the first to wake, squinting as the luminous orange rays of the morning sun filled the bedroom. He wasn't quite sure how long it had taken them both to fall asleep. The last thing he could remember was Carla as she cried herself into a state of exhaustion and finally gave in, falling asleep in Peter's arms. No matter where she was, how she felt or what was going on in her life the safety she felt from Peter's embrace provided the solace and calm that she so desperately craved.

It had been several weeks since their return to the street after Carla's treatment in Carlisle and although she had been dubious at first at the thought of returning to a normal life in familiar surroundings she had soon settled in to a stable routine. Her body had become accustomed to the new antipsychotic medication that Scott had recommended and she appeared to be in a better place compared to how she was before her sectioning.

Scott maintained regular visits to number one, keeping up to date with Carla's progress and ensuring that both she and Peter were aware that extra help and support was only a phone call away; not that they had needed it recently but after last night's episode Peter couldn't help but fear for Carla's progress and whether this setback would require her to return to the hospital for further assessment.

Peter raised his hand, gently pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear and allowing his thumb to affectionately graze the skin of her cheek as she began to stir. The colouration of the sunlight coming through the window complimented her skin and despite the look of fatigue in her expression her ethereal beauty shone through.

"Morning, gorgeous."

Carla allowed her eyes to adjust to the light before fixing her gaze on Peter's soft features, her lips slowly curling into a smile, one that only Peter was able to provoke. It soon faded as she began to recall the events of last night. Although she was unable to recollect minor details she knew, judging by how drained she felt in that moment, it had been a rough night for the two of them.

"I'm sorry."

Peter frowned at at her words and shook his head.

"For what? You've got nothing to be sorry for."

"Last night. I didn't mean for any of that, I don't know what happened. I'm going to have to go back, aren't I?"

The vulnerability in the softness of her voice was so clear to Peter and he could see that even though she had come a long way in recent weeks she was still so unsure of herself and her mind. Without thinking she would still seek out Peter's approval for things such as using the bathroom and although he was glad that she was able to place her trust in him and turn to him if need be he also had to encourage her to do things on her own so that she could get back some of the confidence and independence that she had once been well known for having.

"It's okay, love, it's all going to be okay. I've already spoken to Scott this morning, he's gonna come round later for a chat. Do you think you'd be up to that?"

Carla nodded slowly in understanding and knew that it was for the best. She hadn't always been open with people in the past but after what had happened she knew it was the main thing that needed to change. A part of her was still terrifying of the repercussions of last night's incident but with Peter at her side every step of the way she knew she would be capable of doing anything.

"He also thinks it might be best that we go to the medical centre, just so they can check you over and make sure you're alright."

She shook her head without hesitation, not wanting to be fussed over after having spent weeks being watched and studied as if she were some sort of lab rat.

"I'm fine, Peter, I promise. I would tell you if I wasn't, you know that."

"I know you might think that but the water.. that couldn't have done your skin any good."

He thought back to the previous night and how he had found her submerged in the water. He hadn't allowed himself the chance to register what was happening before his instincts took over and he pulled her from the tub. It was only after the memories of the fire escape steps came flooding back to him. He had almost lost her once recently, he couldn't let it happen again.

Peter ran his hand gently over the top of Carla's arm, narrowing his eyebrows as he recalled the searing heat of the water and whether she was still in any pain because of it. He wouldn't pressure her into doing anything she didn't want to but he couldn't help but allow his concern for her wellbeing to become more evident.

"I don't really remember much of what happened but I'm not in any pain, cross my heart. It was a bad night but I'm okay now. I feel okay."

Peter let out a deep breath and nodded, trusting Carla's judgement.

"Okay, okay. Let's just play it by ear, ey? We'll see how things go with Scott later and decide after that. It wouldn't do any harm just to get checked out though."

Peter lifted his hand from Carla's cheek and lowered it to rest further down before continuing.

"After all, we've got this little one to think of now, ey? We can't be too careful."

Carla's moved her hand to rest on top of Peter's before looking down at her stomach where a small bump had already begun to take shape where it had once been flat. She ran her thumb over his hand, taking comfort in his words and, despite her trepidation, feeling reassured that things would soon start to look up for them.

"Will you come with me? I don't want to go alone."

"Of course I will, my love. Of course I will."


End file.
